


Anabasis

by SomethingProfound



Series: A Sea of Stars [4]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, loss of, pain the fic (tm), what did they all get up to anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 13:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17509172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingProfound/pseuds/SomethingProfound
Summary: The Normandy has been destroyed; Commander Emilia Shepard is dead and her crew scattered across the galaxy. Her friends and family struggle with grief, politics and the knowledge that the Reapers are still coming.Snapshots of the two years Shepard spends dead.





	1. Liara T'Soni: Osiris

**Year One**

**Doctor Liara T'Soni**

* * *

The escape pod stunk of metallic blood, the smell coating the inside of Liara's mouth until she wanted to choke. Red splashed across the floor, Sherazi's hands, down the front and back of Williams' hardsuit.

They'd cut open Waaberi's uniform jacket to look at her injuries and Liara stared mutely at what lay beneath the sodden material. An explosion had sent the serrated remnants of a bulkhead tearing through the Marine's chest, shoulder and neck. One metal fragment had torn her cheek open.

Waaberi had still been conscious when Ashley had physically dragged her onto the escape pod. Conscious and in excruciating pain as Chakwas and Sherazi stuffed medigel into every tear in her dark skin and intubated her.

"Stay with me, Corporal," Chakwas ordered, pausing to squeeze Waaberi's hand. The young Marine didn't respond except with a low, pained groan. "Liara, can you have a look in the first aid locker for me? I need the transfusion kit and if possible, any a-blood packs. They should be clearly labelled."

Liara staggered over to the locker as the pod shuddered around her and threw it open, digging through the small mountain of medical supplies for the requested items, before hurriedly rushing them over to the doctor.

The comm buzzed with Lieutenant Commander Nilsson's voice. _"Pod Five, this is acting CO Nilsson. Status report."_

Acting commander? There'd still been an escape pod for Shepard and Joker to get to. Something clenched in Liara's chest.

Williams, still bloody from carrying Waaberi, slowly reached over and hit the transmit button. "This is Lieutenant Williams. All systems green at this time. I have a full load of fourteen personnel. T'Soni, Chakwas, Sherazi, Dara, Matveev, Attar, Brodeur, Rogers, Vorobyov, Jansson, Auraham, Adamsen and Waaberi. Waaberi is in a critical condition - the sooner we can get her into a proper surgery the better."

_"Copy that, I will add them to the list of personnel accounted for. Do you have accountability of all your Marines?"_

The bleak look on Ashley's face told Liara everything. "Negative. Dubyansky was on Deck One, and Draven went down to Deck Three. The rest I put on Pod Three."

There was a long pause. _"Copy that."_

"Sir," Williams said abruptly, "What happened to Pod One?"

Liara held her breath, her chest spasming painfully. Shepard would be alright. She had to be.

_"It launched, but their comms system appears to be damaged."_

Liara felt her breath rush out of her in a gust of relief.

Ash's shoulders slumped for a moment. "That's very good to hear, sir."

_"How's Waaberi doing?_

Ash glanced over at the younger Marine. Machinist's Mate Auraham was crying, tracks of tear dripping down her cheeks."Not great. Do we have an ETA on rescue?"

_"Negative. I'll keep you informed. First priority is getting down safely and setting up the survival shelters."_

"Copy that."

The descent seemed like decades to Liara, the minutes dragging along painfully in the darkened, shaking pod, the stench of blood filling every crevice. The crew sat in silence except for the odd sniffle and the barked medical words exchanged by doctor and nurse. It was like a vigil - as if all energy was being willed into Amina Waaberi so that she might live.

But in the silence came the fear, incessantly scratching at her insides. What if the Alliance didn't come? What if they couldn't? What if they did but couldn't find the escape pods in the great dark? What if they took too long? What if the enemy ship came back? They were defenceless and blind. What if the shuttles crashed instead of touching down gently?

Liara shuddered. She'd felt like they'd won when they'd killed Saren and Sovereign - but it'd taken half an hour to tear her home to fragments raining down on the planet below. She wished Shepard was here. She couldn't wait until they were all safe and she could steal a hug from the Commander. Shepard wasn't as physically affectionate as asari nor many humans, but Liara could remember how grounded she'd felt when Shepard had hugged her in that cold freezer room.

"We're gonna make it," Ashley said lowly and there was either belief or sheer stubborn determination in her brown eyes when Liara met her gaze. "Shepard got the beacon out."

In the dim light she squeezed the human's hand. Of course Shepard had. The thrusters kicked in, throwing them against their restraints.

Finally the pod settled and they all exchanged strained smiles. They were on the ground at least. The enemy vessel hadn't pursued them. It was something - though the enviromental sensors weren't particularly cheery. It was well below zero and while Alchera had atmosphere it wasn't breathable - but there was water ice and the escape pods had emergency food supplies.

_"Netcall, this is Pod Four, radio check, over."_ Nilsson's voice interrupted Liara's ruminations.

_"Pod Two loud and clear, over."_ CSO Wulandri.

_"Pod Three, roger, over."_ Adams.

Ashley, the highest ranking officer in their pod, responded. "Pod Five, loud and clear."

_"Pod Four copies all. Pod Five, can you move to our location, over?"_ Two, Three and Four had landed in a cluster about four kilometres away.

Ash glanced at Chakwas and got a curt shake of the head in reply. "Negative, we can't move Waaberi that far."

_"Copy. We'll come to you. Get a shelter up and we'll use it as the casualty collection point."_

"Roger. Anything from Pod One?" Like Pod Five, it'd landed away from the others.

_"Negative. We'll need to send a party to them - if their comms aren't working it'll be hard to find us."_

"I'll take Liara," she said immediately.

_"Roger that."_

"Alright, listen up!" Ash climbed to her feet. "T'Soni, you're with me. Everyone else - except Doc and Sherazi - we need to get one of the shelters up for Chakwas, along with the emergency generator and the POGS. I'll be back with the Skipper and Joker."

The battered, shell shocked crew seemed to straighten a little at that. Shepard couldn't fix everything but her strength was its own comfort.

Pod One had landed some five kilometres from Pod Five. They trudged in silence, their hardsuits bright splashes of colour against the pale isolation of the planet around them. It was slow going, the ice crunching underneath Liara's feet, Ash impatiently pausing to run her scanner. If they fell into a crevice or the ice cracked beneath them it could kill them or force another group to come rescue them without proper equipment.

"Are you okay?" Liara asked softly as the Lieutenant helped her over cracked terrain.

Under her visor, Ash's face was stony. "I just need to see her."

"I understand." Even knowing the pod had launched wasn't enough. Liara wouldn't be able to breathe properly until Shepard was back with them.

It took all she had not to start running as soon as they saw Pod One. It'd carved a long furrow through the ice, coming to rest with the nose half buried. But it was whole and gleaming silver under Amada's cold light. The reason that Shepard and Joker had been unable to contact the rest of the crew was clear - some impact had torn the antenna right off the pod.

Ashley slammed her hand against the holo lock. The door rumbled open.

"A-ash?" Joker carefully pushed himself up. His breathing mask was still fastened on his face, muffling his words. His eyes were red.

Liara peered around the Marine's shoulder. The rest of the pod was empty. Her heart froze in her chest. Why was it empty?

"Joker," Ash said, her voice sharp and edged like a knife. "Where is she?"

His breathing hitched. "Shepard didn't make it onto the pod. She stopped - I think she was looking to see if there were any of the CIC crew still alive, and there was an explosion. She was trapped."

"And you didn't help her?"

"I tried," he said hoarsely, "but she launched the pod to stop me."

No. It wasn't possible. If she'd been close enough to press the launch button, then she had to have been close to the pod. Why hadn't she just gotten on? Liara felt her breathing seize.

"She's a biotic," she pointed out, bewildered. Surely she could've just shoved whatever debris had pinned her off.

"She wasn't amped," Ashley said flatly.

"What?"

"She wasn't amped. She doesn't like wearing it to sleep, and she was only going up to the bridge to ovesee the jump, then she was coming back to bed."

"Oh," Liara breathed.

"Always the _fucking_ hero." Ash slammed her fist into the side of escape pod, hard enough it reverberated. Then she leant her head onto it, visor clacking against metal, as if she needed the support to stay upright.

"Ash...I'm sorry," Joker said tentatively.

She chuckled, low and humourlessly. "I told you that you needed to evacuate. You should've-"

"You think I don't know that?" he shot back, face twisting with anguish, "I should've listened to you or I should have gotten up as soon as she got there-"

"Damnit, Joker!" Ash spun to look at him, "There's a reason you follow orders-"

"That's a bit rich coming from someone who was fraternising with an O5," he snapped defensively.

Silence fell like a curtain. Something hard flashed across Ash's face and for a moment Liara was afraid she might strike him.

"Ash, Ash, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. You're right-"

"Is that what you'll tell the Navy?" she asked, "that it was because she was fraternising with a junior officer that she couldn't get on the escape pod? I followed orders. I didn't kill her."

Joker went pale. "I didn't mean for -"

"I really don't give a fuck."

"Enough!" Liara stepped forward and two wounded gazes snapped to her, "We don't - we don't _know_ Shepard is dead. And tearing each other apart over this isn't going to help anything."

"We need to get back to the camp," Ash said lifelessly, "Can you walk, Moreau?"

It took them twice as long to return than it had to make their way to Pod One, taking turns to support a silent Joker.

Two emergency shelters had been put up and she spotted the squat shapes of the POGS and the generator, the _Normandy_ survivors scurrying around like ants.

_Shepard didn't make it onto the pod._ It couldn't be. It was possible to survive for days in a hardsuit, and if anyone could do so it would be Commander Shepard.

A restrained but smiling Lieutenant Commander Nilsson met them. It couldn't be easy to take command of a crew in which you were the newcomer after such devastating losses. "Good news! The Alliance picked up on our emergency beacon. The _Tokyo_ and _Leicester_ are coming for us as fast as they can."

"Good to hear," Liara managed a smile.

He frowned, looking at the three of them. "Where's the Commander?"

"She didn't make it, sir," Ash said, jaw clenching.

"What?" he stared at them.

"Ask Moreau." She shoved past him and headed for the dispirited gaggle of Marines, half-heartedly building another shelter.

Nilsson opened his mouth, but something he'd seen on Ashley's face stopped him. Eventually he just shook his head. "We'll just have to wait for the cruisers to get here. Then we can take a stock of everything. Get yourself to the medical tent, Lieutenant Moreau."

It took the SSV _Tokyo_ and the SSV _Leicester_ twenty-five hours to reach Alchera.

It took Corporal Amina Waaberi ten to die.

After forty minutes of resuscitation attempts and twice getting a pulse back only to lose it again, Chakwas finally accepted accepted the inevitable. Ashley grabbed the body of her friend under the arms and dragged it out of the tent, her face as cold and blank as the ice outside, where she carefully covered it with a blanket.

Jaz and Freddie sat next to Waaberi in silent vigil until the cruisers' shuttles appeared above.

* * *

Ultimately the two cruisers only remained over Alchera long enough for all the Normandy's survivors and Waaberi's body to be recovered. Only cursory scans had been done of the Normandy's wreckage in orbit and on the planetary surface. They bundled the _Normandy_ crew into shuttles and then into one of the _Tokyo's_ mess halls, wrapping each of them in blankets and setting cups of coffee in front of them. Lifting the cup to her lips seemed a monumental task, so instead she simply watched the slow climb of steam.

"No lifesigns were found," The _Tokyo's_ captain, a broad and balding man called Rodriguez told the gathered crew grimly, "we're heading back to the Citadel to offload the wounded - ATRANSCOM will organise flights back to Arcturus."

Dispirited silence met his announcement.

"We need to keep looking," Liara burst out when it was clear that none of them would say anything- not Wulandri, not Nilsson, not even Williams. Shepard was their Commander! "Shepard could still be alive in her hardsuit."

"We found no sign of life. I'm very sorry, but it's very unlikely the Commander could've survived the core blowing," his face was creased with sympathy but she _burned_ with anger, "My first duty is to everyone on these ships. We had to violate the sovereignty of at least three states to get here and the longer we stay here the greater the risk someone tries to make an example of us."

"So we're just going to leave her here?" she demanded, "So much for 'leave no one behind'."

"Liara..." Greg Adams murmured, putting his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"A recovery team will be sent," Captain Rodriguez said tightly, "but right now your wounded need a hospital."

When he was gone the crew lapsed into silence again. Someone was crying. Liara was almost trembling with anger.

"Coward," she spat.

"That's not fair, Liara," Adams said, rubbing his face. "A bunch of us came to the _Normandy_ from the _Tokyo -_ Monica was his friend _._ He came as soon as he could."

It took her a moment to remember that Monica was the Buffer. Had been.

Liara didn't want to think of Shepard trapped and alone, waiting for rescue that never came. She didn't want to think of her lying in the snow. Shepard had always come for them. She'd always _tried -_ even when she failed, like on Virmire.

When they were back on the Citadel, she had plans to make. And if there was anyone who could help her complete them, it would be Ashley Williams.

* * *

The conversation did not go as planned.

Liara marched herself into Williams' temporary quarters, burning with purpose, and began to explain what they needed to do. It'd been three days - it'd take another to get back to Alchera if they moved quickly.

Ashley listened at first with the same dull apathy that she'd shown to everything since her argument with Joker, then with growing distress, curling her hands into fists by her sides.

"She's dead, Liara," Ash interrupted, eyes wild. Her Alliance uniform was rumpled, like she'd slept in it. "She's dead and this - whatever this is?" she gestured between them, "it won't bring her back. It won't change what happened. All you're gonna find is a - a frozen and broken corpse and I just, I can't see her like that."

"We're all the hope she has," Liara pointed out desperately.

"You don't think," Ashley said very softly, "that I haven't woken up every morning thinking, hoping, _praying_ that she's going to walk in the door? But I know - I _knew_ her and-"

"We don't know she's dead," Liara snapped.

Ashley's expression flattened. "I have new orders."

Liara had been in Shepard's head, experienced the soft longing she'd felt for Ashley Williams. If Shepard had loved Liara like that nothing would've stopped her from going after her, least of all orders. The venom welled up in her and escaped before she could stop it.

"You must not love her as much as she loves you."

Ash took two steps back, as if Liara had struck her, her expression an open wound. The words hung between them, sharp enough to cut.

Then her expression shuttered, leaving only steel-cold anger. "Get out."

"Ashley-"

"Get. Out!" her teeth bared and her fists clenched, the human woman looked like an injured animal, ready to snap.

Liara turned on her heel and left her there. The conditioned air of the Citadel was cool on the tracks of tears down her cheeks. Behind her she heard the bullet crack of Ash's hissed voice and the impact of her fist on the wall.

Liara imagined she could feel it - the binds that held the Normandy crew together fraying and snapping, one by one.

Her own ties to the Alliance were broken - she'd resigned her contract to the Alliance military. Both Anderson and Hackett had tried to convince to her stay on, work for the Admiral's taskforce, but she was done with them.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. There was much to do - Shepard was relying on her now.


	2. Ashley Williams: Remnant

**Year One**

**First Lieutenant Ashley Williams**

* * *

The sun sank warm fingers of light through the purple-leaved trees and into the dark cobalt of First Lieutenant Ashley Williams' jacket, glancing off the metal buttons and medals. They'd erected a white pavilion that rippled in the wind, to give the family some shade. But she stood, unmoving, in the sunlight. Gunnery Sergeant Julia Alvarez stood beside her with red rimmed eyes.

Ashley's shoulder ached as if she could still feel the weight that had been on it, even though her eyes were fixed forward. Fixed to the weighted coffin draped in Alliance blue. What was worse? Carrying the weight of your lover's body in a box, or knowing it wasn't really her in there? Just fragments of bone, shattered by impact. That was all the Alliance had found of the twenty-two who died with the SSV Normandy. Pieces, scraped together and given to their families, vastly diminished from who they'd been in life.

They were going to erect a monument on Alchera, amidst the Normandy's icy bones. She'd been invited. She'd told Anderson she'd rather just go back to work.

No church or priests - perhaps Hannah's way of acknowledging her daughter had let go of her belief in God a long time ago - just a sea of Alliance blue and white uniforms, testament to a different kind of faith.

Commodore Hannah Shepard slowly got to her feet. She was dressed in the blinding white of her dress uniform, her gold stars of rank glinting on her shoulders, and her face was as hard and blank as diamond. "Thank you all for coming today to honour the life of my daughter, Commander Emilia Shepard." Her eyes touched on the dignitaries in front row seats. The Prime Minister, the new Defence Minister, Admiral Hackett, a wane Commodore Anderson. Councillor Tevos had made the trip on behalf of the Council, her white-gloved hands folded in her lap and her blue eyes inscrutable.

"It means a lot to all of us." Behind her sat her son - the brother Ash had never gotten to meet, a tall man she didn't recognise who had to be Shepard's stepfather, Hannah's parents in their own dress whites and Rosa and Joaquín Alves. Rosa kept looking over at her, but Ash avoided her gaze.

The words were rote, like reading from a list. "Gunnery Sergeant Tan, if you would."

A man in Marine dress blues, rose carefully from his seat. From under his chair, a mobility assistance mech unfolded and a grizzled hand reached out to grab the handle. It allowed him to walk, albeit slowly, to the front of those gathered.

He was of Asian appearance, the passage of time weathering his skin. His uniform, pristine as it was, looked like it was not worn often; in truth, it only found itself draped around his shoulders at official events, mostly funerals. Gunnery Sergeant Tan was retired, because of the very wounds that required him to rely on the support of the mech he'd brought with him.

His omnitool pulsed, and a small display appeared around his arm. Those in front of him would be able to see words appear across it. Though, with a small smile, he immediately went off book.

"That might be the first time a Commodore introduced a Gunnery Sergeant." Then, after a beat, "Thank you, Ma'am."

Tan stood, up the front, for a few more moments in silence, almost as if he was composing his already motionless features. Then, with measured reverence, he began: "For those of you who do not know me, I am Gunnery Sergeant Tan Duc. I had the distinct honour of being the Platoon Sergeant to Emilia Shepard, from 2174 to 2176. Those of you familiar with the Blitz will notice that those dates include the action on Elysium, for which Lieutenant Shepard would receive the Star of Terra.

"Many, many people over the years have asked me why she made that stand on Elysium - and why we all went along with it, still dressed for the beach. I think it was because she was too stubborn to do otherwise. She wasn't going to move - they had to." He smiled, just a little. "And we went along with it because she made us believe too."

"Shepard was brilliant, stubborn, sometimes arrogant, empathetic, brave to a fault. But that was her best quality. Not only could she convince you that she could do the impossible, but she'd convince you that you could do it too.

"She loved people and she genuinely believed that leading Alliance Marines and sailors was a privilege. She always wanted to get everyone across the finish line. I think most of you here know that. She just had an effect on everyone around her. A lot of people saw her hard edges and stoicism and mistook it for cynicism, but it always amazed me that in reality Emilia Shepard was the biggest idealist I ever met. She truly believed in what the Systems Alliance could be, in doing everything you could to protect those who couldn't fight for themselves, for doing the right thing wherever and whenever you could.

"Shepard was a good Marine, a good officer to the end. She died embodying the same ideals she lived - going back for a trapped friend, no matter the potential cost to herself, because she was the CO and that meant something to her. Something worth dying for. I think that's what she'd like us to remember. It's not the length of life that defines someone, it's what they do with it. Standing for something. Living with courage and conviction. Thank you."

They stretched the flag out across the casket and folded it crisply into a neat triangle, white Alliance stars facing up. Shepard had loved the stars.

" _You know we're going to have to live on a space station, right? Arcturus or the Citadel."_

" _Oh yeah?"_

" _Yeah. I can't stay on a planet for longer than three weeks before I get the itch, and for our work-"_

" _I don't recall ever saying that I'd move in with you, Commander."_

" _But you will, right? When we're done being patient."_ She'd said that with that little half-smile of hers, the genuine one she kept just for Ash.

" _If you're very lucky-"_

And then Shepard had tackled her onto the bed and they'd laughed and kissed and they'd both known that Ash would say yes when the time came, both a little breathless with those first confessions of love. And Ash had really thought that this was going to be her future. That eventually she'd get a different posting and they wouldn't have to hide anymore, that they'd have their own apartment, they'd fight over Shepard's terrible taste in HV shows and whether their books should be arranged alphabetically or by genre, and they'd come home to each other.

Instead, Shepard was dead. She'd died alone and darkness while Ashley got on an escape pod.

Gunshots rang out across the cemetery three times, shattering the stillness. Anderson knelt to press that triangle of fabric into Hannah Shepard's white gloved hands.

And then Ashley Williams drifted like a boat cut free of its moorings.

She found Wrex standing over the freshly turned dirt. The inscription on the pale white headstone was still fresh.

Emilia Shepard  
Star of Terra  
Commander  
Systems Alliance Navy  
11 April 2154  
12 December 2183

"Liara isn't here," he said when she stopped next to him, crossing her arms. The etched words didn't feel real, like she was reading them but they left no imprint on her mind.

"No." Ashley didn't want to think about her last argument with Liara. What the asari was doing - that was something more like denial. People weren't machines. They couldn't find all of Shepard's scattered pieces in the snow and put her back together.

_Oh god._

"It figures," the old krogan said, the rumble of his voice jolting her almost painfully.

"What does?"

"No one living could kill Shepard, so the Void itself had to." Wrex pulled out a bottle and unscrewed the list, filling the air with the sharp scent of ryncol. "To krannt and not giving up."

He upended the bottle and they both watched as the ryncol splashed down over Shepard's almost-empty grave, pooling and slowly soaking through.

When the last drop was gone he put the bottle away and nodded once to himself. "It's time for me to go. There's work to be done."

Ash watched the huge krogan man walking away. He didn't move for the crowd - the crowd moved for him.

Suddenly, she couldn't quite breathe. She needed to be somewhere else. She struck out blindly in search of the carpark, away from the little knot of Shepard's family, away from the weight of Rosa Alves' eyes on her back.

She almost made it too, before a hard hand came down on her shoulder. She twisted, scowling at the narrow features of Joseph Coyle, retired N7 and current Corsair. He was in his dress whites, the blood stripe down his arm. The only one, besides Shepard's abuelos, who'd known what they were to each other. She really didn't want to deal with that right now.

"What?" she snapped.

"Me n' the other Alliance types, we're headed to Murdoch's. You should come along."

"I don't know." She had a very tempting date with the bottle of bourbon back at her hotel, and the only time she'd been to Murdoch's had been with Shepard.

"You shouldn't be alone," he said strongly, ignoring the way she bristled. "This is a time you should be with your family."

"C'mon, Boss." Jaz came up to her other side. This was only the second time she'd seen him in his dress blues. The first time had been under sufferance, for the awards ceremony on the Citadel.

After a moment, Ash felt her shoulders slump, and she let the newly promoted Corporal take her by the arm and draw her towards a waiting taxi.

* * *

Murdoch's Bar and Grill slowly filled with Alliance troops, not a few of them wearing blood stripes on their arms. Ash found a corner and a glass, shooing off her young Corporal from hovering. Of course, he found someone new to hang on to - some grizzled Senior Chief N7 corded with muscle - and of course it was him who breached the silent tension.

"So she just, punches him square in the face! A fucking krogan! The bastard is so shocked he freezes for a second and gives her the time to shoot him with her shotgun."

"That sounds like Loca," Coyle said affectionately, "One time we were scouting out some slaver den in a shithole city in the Traverse - just eyes on, y'know? Anyway, their top guy just walks out to have a leak, the dumbfuck. So Loca just jumps outta the car before any of us can ask what this fuckin' O3 thinks she's doing, brazen as you'd like. Grabs him, puts a bag over his head and just stuffs him in the trunk! The sentries were so shocked they only got off a few shots before we'd floored it!"

Ashley tossed back the last of her drink and went in search of another, jostling through her brothers and sisters in arms to the bar. With a strange half-cry, half-bark, Gunnery Sergeant Tan, the man who'd given the eulogy, overbalanced and began to fall backwards. His mech limply stood above as he raced towards the ground.

Lightning quick, she quickly grabbed his arm, arresting his fall, "Shit, sorry Gunny."

Just as quick, he grabbed back at her, and allowed himself to be helped back to his feet. After a moment, he steadied himself and reached for his mech again. The Marines he was drinking with looked over in concern, but soon returned to conversing and drinking.

"That's quite alright, Lieutenant," he said. He didn't look angry, but he wasn't too pleased either. "Where were you off to in such a hurry?"

She shrugged and called for another drink. If she was going be stuck here listening to all of it, she was damned well going to be drunk. She took a long sip from her glass. "Good speech, by the way. Better than what the PM said on HV."

"I appreciate that." His face softened somewhat, and a pleasant smile fell across his lips. "I've had a bit of practice at it," his voice softened. "When someone from our platoon on Elysium passes, I tend to be the one to say something at the graveside. Funny… I never thought it would be Shepard. After Elysium… I really did think she was invincible."

After a brief moment, he sobered himself somewhat. "You were one of the pall bearers, right, Lieutenant," he checked the nametape, and almost did a double take, though didn't mention it if he recognised the name. "Williams? How did you know her?"

A year ago, a double take at her name would have had her bristling. It felt like forever ago. Like she'd been someone else - younger, defensive, unaware that her last name was far from the worst thing that could happen to her.

"Someone makes a habit of surviving the impossible, you start to think they always will." She couldn't help the bitterness that dripped from her voice. "And yeah. Shepard pulled my ass out of the fire on Eden Prime. I was the Normandy's Marine Detachment sergeant, then the Detachment CO." Her fingers brushed the silver bars at her throat. "She pinned these on me."

She took another gulp from her glass.

"Well, you learned from the best, let me tell you." He also had a long swig, a bourbon man, clearly. "I was her Platoon Sergeant - I got her when she was fresh from OCS. God, she was a warrior even from the start. What was she like, on the Normandy? When I read in the news, first human Spectre, I couldn't believe it. Then, I thought about it for a moment and it made perfect sense."

"You knew her before Elysium and Akuze." Ash couldn't quite imagine that. Shepard had carried those around with her wherever she went. "She was…" A lump formed in her throat and she looked away. Was. "Well. I don't think there's too many officers who could convince all seventy of a crew to mutiny and steal a frigate. But she did."

Surprisingly, Tan laughed at that. Clearly the emotion of the day was getting to him too. "Yeah, that was Shepard alright. The kind of officer people wanted to impress. Marines would follow to hell and back." There was something wild about the way he said it, like he felt the same himself. "She saved a lot of people on Elysium, but it still wasn't enough in her mind."

"Heroic to a goddamn fault." She finished her drink and called for another. "I should have gone with her."

"You know that's not what she would have wanted." Tan was gentle when he said that. Like he'd talked not a few young men and women through bouts of survivor's guilt. "She was heroic to a fault," he agreed. "Honestly… She didn't even mean to be like that. It's just who she was."

He was right. Ashley had loved her for it. "Yeah. So, where'd you travel from?"

"Shanxi. It's where I'm from - lived there during the FCW, and moved back once I retired. I do travel quite a lot nowadays though. I work with Got Your Six - you know, the veteran's support group. I do motivational speaking and assist with disability claims, pension claims. I also do some of the marketing. A lot of it is done via extranet, but I need to attend events sometimes."

The smile faded a little. "But then sometimes I need to travel to attend things like this. Funerals for some of my Marines. We had a lot of serious disabilities after Elysium and I knew my Marines well."

Even after all this time, she still flinched despite herself when hearing Shanxi. "Good on you. I've heard you guys do good work." At the mention of his old platoon - Shepard's old platoon - her expression faded into sympathy, "Shepard told me. She was often busy, but she kept up with what was going on with you guys. I was with her, when she finally got Elanos Haliat. Arsehole tried to nuke us."

She barked a laugh despite herself. "Joke was on him though. We got him and his people anyway."

Tan was incredulous. "He tried to nuke you? I heard Shepard got him, some shithole in the Traverse." He shared that laugh with Ashley. "You see? She's like an action vid hero! I bet Haliat was pissed. He was embarrassed after the Blitz turned out to be such a failure."

She smiled. "Yeah, some FCW era nuke, shoved it down a mining tunnel. I told her that it was a trap and she was just 'yeah probably'. I had to wonder how he even managed to pull the Blitz together if that was his plan. He ranted about how they were the same and then she just shot him."

At this point, Tan was almost slack-jawed. "He shoved an old nuke in a mining channel, lured you into an obvious trap, ranted like some B-rate vid villian, and then caught a bullet? That… is the craziest fucking thing I've ever heard. Good work getting through that in one piece. Did the nuke even work?"

"I know, right? I swear Shepard just attracted weird shit like that that. As for the nuke - I dunno, man, our tech disarmed the trigger. Wasn't going to sit around to see if it worked." She laughed again, leaning against the bar. Over Tan's shoulder she could see two of her Marines wrestling - in their dress blues. Hopefully neither of them broke anything. "Can't say I was impressed by the 'architect of the Blitz'."

"Psh. I thought he would've put up a bit more of a fight." Tan scratched at his stubble, a pause that allowed him to study Ashley's face for a moment.

After a moment, he gestured behind and around him. "It's getting crowded here. Let's find a corner." His head turned over his shoulder to one of the other Marines and he said something quietly Ash wouldn't have been able to hear properly, then stood with his mobility mech.

He didn't demand Ash follow him, but the air he exuded and the way he carried himself indicated a sense of authority, like he was used to be listened to. Ever the NCO.

Ash shrugged and followed, taking her drink with her and following into a dark corner up the back of the room. Jaz appeared to be animatedly telling the story of how Shepard had shoved poor Dubyansky out of the driving seat and personally steered the Mako through the Conduit. She'd gone to the handsome Russian sergeant's funeral too. His wife had clung to both of their little boys the entire time.

She threw herself into the seat, leaning back in her chair and taking another sip. The alcohol had sunk into her now, made the room blur around the edges. Numbed the sharp feeling in her chest. "Funny, huh?" she smiled, though there was little humour in it. "Her first platoon sergeant and her last."

She raised her glass, nearly slopping a bit over the side.

She was clearly not pacing herself. Wordlessly, a small flourish produced a handkerchief, which he offered to Ash. "In case the next one lands on the table." It sounded like it might have been a joke, but there was something else behind it. "What's eating you, Lieutenant?"

"Thanks," was all she said to the offer of the hankerchief. At the question she chuckled bitterly and waved a hand a little wildly at the rest of the room. "Isn't it obvious?"

Tan shook his head. "If it were obvious, you'd be standing over there with them-" he pointed to Jaz, gesticulating wildly, and the Marines listening intently, occasional laugh erupting from them, "-giving your own recounts of daring-do. I've been around the block, Williams. I know how these things go."

He leaned forward and gently finished, "There's no judgement here. Not from me. You can get it off your chest."

Ash breathed in unevenly, staring into her glass. "I was in love with her." She was surprised her voice didn't waver. "And now she's dead, so…"

She shrugged and downed the rest of her drink.

If this fact shocked him, Tan gave no indication. "I am… sorry. For everything. That's a tough pill to swallow. Were the two of you involved?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her forehead. "We didn't...no one except Coyle and her grandparents knew. The N7 who dragged us all here, and only because he saw me nearly get my head shot off in front of her. Even now," she laughed, a little unsteadily, "I was her Staff Sergeant, then her Lieutenant. We both know how people would look at it."

Tan nodded knowingly. "Yeah. It never matters what actually happened, just what people think happened. There's no need for any of that."

He smiled a little, despite himself. "I am impressed you managed to keep that a secret for any stretch on a ship the size of the Normandy."

Ash laughed, rubbing at her numbed cheeks. "Yeah. She was just always so professional. Guess people didn't think she had it in her. I guess I just need to believe she's with God now. Putting in a good word for us."

"Or beating Him in an arm wrestle." Tan grinned. "Being friends with Shepard? We'll have no problem up there."

After a few moments of bemusement, he became serious again. "Have you spoken to any of her family?"

She shook her head. "Her grandmother made sure I was one of the pallbearers but...no."

Tan's response was rather simple. "Why?"

"What could I say?" she asked dispiritly, "I'm the subordinate that was sleeping with her for a few months. There's a reason she never told Hannah."

"Well, I understand that. But now that it's over, whether she may have been ashamed of frat or not, her mother, or her family, might appreciate some insight into how she was during the last few months." He took a long sip, carefully watching for her reaction. "Besides, from your perspective, it sounds like a lot more than you were just sleeping together."

"She said she loved me," Ash said softly, "I guess… Part of me isn't ready to acknowledge that it is over."

"I'm sorry. But you don't have to acknowledge that right now. You don't have to feel like you're alone, either." Between his palm, he rolled the glass that was in front of him. He'd seen Marines lose a best friend or lover, either through combat or something else. Sometimes, they did something stupid.

He hesitated before saying the next thing. It was soft, though. "You will one day have to accept that she's not coming back, I'm sorry to say. But it doesn't have to be today. Take the time to grieve, no matter if people try to rush you. Don't try to bury it - it always comes out eventually." Tan reached across the table, easing one of his gloved hands around one of Ashley's and gave it a firm squeeze. "I'm truly sorry for your loss. Move at your own pace. That's the important thing to remember."

She chuckled a little, squeezing back. "You're not too shabby at this, huh? I'll talk to people. Thank you."

He laughed too. "Well that's why I do it. I figure if I don't have my body anymore-" he released Ash's hand to gesture at his mech "-I might as well develop my heart, and my mind. You can have my personal number too, Lieutenant."

He sighed. "I cared about her too. You should have seen her on Elysium. She had that fire in her eyes…"

"Thanks. It's good to talk to someone who knew her, you know? Not just the public persona - hell how many people at that funeral would've been horrified at how she spoke with her Marines?" She smiled, bittersweetly. "It killed her, the Battle of the Citadel. Sending all those sailors and Marines in like she had to. I hate that people are trying to make it out like… Like she didn't care, or that she was pandering to aliens or even that she was somehow incompetent."

Anger flashed in the Lieutenant's eyes. "That's what some of them are trying to do, you know. Make out that she was mentally unstable. Inexperienced as a ship captain. That its her fault the Normandy crashed. It's all bullshit."

Again, Tan chuckled. "She was more rough-and-tumble then she appeared." He tilted his head as he listened to her. Sagely, he nodded. "I know. And we both know she did nothing wrong - she wasn't always by the book, but she never did anything wrong. Don't listen to the nay-sayers. They'll check the comms, the logs, interview the pilot."

Tan sighed. "The media always does this. You know how they framed Elysium? "Failure of Systems Alliance Births War Hero". Like it was our fault for the Blitz, and that it was the only reason Shepard could save us. And you knew-" that sounded so weird, talking about Shepard like she wasn't there anymore "-her better than anyone."

"She hated that. First time we met she told me she wasn't special. Always said it was all of you guys who saved Illyria, not just her."

Tan smiled. "I know. She came to see me in the hospital, after the dust settled. Wearing a Star… It was more like a weight on her shoulders than a badge of honour. She told me…She told me that it was part of the reason she became an N. She didn't want to be paraded around like some show piece Marine. She never asked for the Star, or to be first human Spectre, or any of it."

The rest of the night passed in a blur as the crowd of Alliance soldiers, sailors and Marines ebbed and flowed - but the bar never quite emptied. Finally, at some point, Coyle put Ash's arm over his shoulder and helped her back to her hotel room.

"I need to talk to somebody," she informed him.

He patted her shoulder. "I know, but you should have a nap first."

"Nap?" she blinked at him.

"Best not to talk to a one star off your face, Williams. Sleep, painkillers then talk to her."

"You're a….you're a smart man, Coyle." The room swam around her.

He smiled sadly. "So people have told me. Get some rest, Williams."


	3. Hannah Shepard: Mother

**Year One**

**Commodore Hannah Shepard**

* * *

 

The morning after Hannah Shepard buried her daughter she woke up with gritty eyes and a pointy elbow in her ribs. She twisted out from under the warm, heavy weight of her husband’s arm and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her face.

They’d left the wake early. She’d watched her son shrink in on himself as dozens of people he didn’t know came to shake his hand, tell him he looked a lot like his sister and did she ever tell him about…? Hannah had watched until she couldn’t anymore and she’d snuck them out the back of the hall, leaving her own mother to play host.

The press had taken a picture of the Prime Minister hugging Hannah, for God’s sake. It’d probably be on the front page of news websites across the Alliance this morning - their loss processed for public consumption, her bloodied heart put on display.  


John had driven them not back to the home in Joughin they’d bought together fifteen years ago, but to the small house by the green sea with the sailboat still in the garage. They;d stayed up until 3am looking through old holos - thirteen year old Emilia dressing baby Nick up in one of John’s shirts and a pair of Hannah’s heels, her graduations from boot and OCS, tossing a giggling Nick around with her biotics, the Star of Terra ceremony.

Then they’d fallen asleep on Emilia’s bed, Hannah’s nearly adult son crawling in between them like he hadn’t since he was seven.

Now Nick sprawled across half the bed beside John, his face slack. He didn’t really look like Emilia. Not really. He had the same dark, curly hair as his sister and mother but that was the extent of it.

In the dim light of the bedroom Hannah pushed her hand underneath the collar of her shirt, fingers curling around the four tags of metal around her neck, feeling the sharp edges of two. She hadn't worn her dogtags out of uniform since she was nineteen and stupid, but Hackett had handed her Emilia's tags and she hadn't taken them off since.

She'd dreamed of her daughter - young and fragile in her arms, the feel of her tiny, warm body against her chest- but woken only to the empty ache in her chest. All she'd wanted was to touch her one last time - touch her thick curls, feel the texture of her skin, the little scars on her face. But all they'd found was scraps of bone. They'd put those in the bottom of the coffin and draped her dress whites over the top, the Star of Terra winking bronze from the empty collar.

Hannah's hand clenched hard around the dogtags, hard enough the metal bit into her palm.

"Love?" John stirred, yawning. The pillow had left a crease along his cheek.

She released her grip. "Go back to sleep. I'm just going to put some coffee on."

He had to be exhausted. Nick had barely slept after she'd broken the news - over a goddamn vidlink because of course she'd been out on patrol when NAVCOMM had gotten the mayday calls. It'd been John who'd comforted their son the best he could during that agony of waiting.  


The early morning sunlight filtered through the glass windows, and she could see the green sea tumbling against the shoreline below. This place had always been more of an escape than a home.

She put the coffee machine on and sat on the couch, watching the waves. The flag David had handed to her was still in the car - she wondered, each thought feeling distant and malformed, if she should get it out. Where would she put it? On the mantle back in the home she shared with her husband and son? With Isabel's flag in her office on Arcturus?

If she closed her eyes she could see it. The marble slab, gleaming blindingly white in the sunlight, near where her wife was buried.

The coffee machine beeped and Hannah got to her feet gingerly. She made herself a cup mechanically, trailing a hand along the bench top to the sketchbook that sat there, right where Emilia had left it. She could imagine it - her daughter sitting on the couch, pencil in hand and coffee steaming on the table.

Hannah flipped it open, running her fingertips across the thick paper. The first few sketches were familiar places and people - the beach, the cluttered streets onboard Arcturus that she'd loved so much, Nick, the sleek curves of the  _ Normandy. _

The next sketch though -

A woman with laughter curling her mouth, a light in her eyes visible through the charcoal. There was an intimacy to it, the way the sketch ended at bare collarbones, the way Emilia’s fingers had formed the line of this woman’s cheek, that made Hannah feel intrusive. This familiar woman.

_ Oh,  _ Hannah thought.  _ Oh.  _

There’d been no laughter in Lieutenant Williams’ eyes when she’d been folding that flag. 

“Hannah?” The door slid open with a hiss and Rosa Alves bustled in, hands full of containers - for breakfast, probably lunch as well. That had always been Rosa. She’d filled the empty place Isabel had left behind with being busy, with her grandchildren, with her volunteering. It made sense she’d do the same now Emilia was dead. 

“Coffee just finished,” Hannah said, her voice thin and rough, like a fraying rope. “John and Nick are still asleep.” 

“Gracias,” she set her containers down on the bench and crossed over to the coffee machine, “I brought medialunas for everyone. Mateo is taking Diego to the spaceport, but he will be back for lunch.” 

Perhaps it was ungrateful of her, but Hannah was glad that the numerous Shepard and Alves relatives were beginning to disperse. She was tired of being told people were sorry, tired of being a host to everyone else’s grief. “I’m not hungry.” 

Rosa put a warm hand on her shoulder. “I know, Hannah, but-” 

She broke off at the sight of the sketch. 

“You were very insistent I make sure Lieutenant Williams was involved in the funeral,” Hannah said distantly. “They were…?” 

“They were in love,” Rosa’s voice was gentle but certain, her hand squeezing, “Emilia brought Ash to meet us, when they had leave.” 

“But she didn’t tell me,” and there was a hard lump rising in Hannah’s throat until she bent her head. “I’m her mother and she didn’t tell me.” 

“She was-” 

“Worried,” Hannah cut off, forcing the words out through a closed up throat, “She was worried about what I’d think, and God, she was right, Rosa. If I’d known I would’ve told her she was making a mistake, that she was risking her career. What kind of mother am I that she couldn’t tell me she’d fallen in love?”

“Hannah,” Rosa snapped, her voice hardening, and pulled on her shoulder until they were looking at each other. Rosa’s dark eyes gentled even as her tone stayed firm, “Listen to me. The one thing that girl wanted was for you to be proud of her. She loved you.” 

“I am. I don’t think I told her enough.” 

“She knew.” 

Hannah looked away, running her gaze over the sketch again. “I was too hard on her. A parent should give - warmth. Not just respect.” 

“You did all that any of us can do. You did your best, and she knew that,” Rosa clasped Hannah’s hand between her own, coffee long forgotten, “You raised an incredible woman, one that lived and died for what she believed in.”

Hannah had never wanted to raise a hero. Heroes were all too often martyrs. 

“I miss her.” She missed their irregular vid calls and dinners, she missed the far more regular emails - the ones where Emilia had asked her advice and the ones where she’d just sent holos of the new model she’d put together because that had always been  _ theirs.  _ She missed the steady weight of her gaze in all the holos of her Spectre ceremony even though Hannah knew how much it had frightened her. She missed her, gangly and awkward at sixteen and solemn and straight shouldered at twenty-four with the Star of Terra heavy around her neck. She missed the small curve of her smile, the first time Emilia had laughed after Akuze. 

She’d wanted what any parent wanted. She’d wanted to see her daughter smile, laugh, fall in love, find peace or fulfilment. She’d wanted to see her at thirty, at forty, at fifty, with grey in her hair. She’d wanted her to put down the weight of Elysium and Akuze. 

But her daughter had died at twenty-nine, alone and far from home. 

“I miss her too,” Rosa told her, something very old in her eyes. Emilia had been Isabel’s only child - losing her was losing that last piece of Rosa’s own daughter as well. 

Hannah wiped at her wet cheeks. “Did you like her?” 

Rosa blinked. “Who?” 

“Williams. Did you like her?” 

“Yes,” Rosa admitted, “She made Emilia smile, made her laugh. Made fun of her, even. Our Emilia could take herself a bit too seriously sometimes.” 

“I should talk to her,” Hannah found the twisted dog tags again, ran her thumb across them. 

“Yes, I think you should.” 


End file.
